


with you i shall play

by crossingwinter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, a channukah smut fic for you cats and kittens, equal in darkness and equal in light ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), it’s more likely than you’d think, me? projecting my feelings about channukah onto ben solo?, memories of bad anal, they are such switches and i love them, this is smut smut smut shameless smut, woefully unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 10:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16871200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: And when it's dry And ready, then Ben's dick Rey shall play.





	with you i shall play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ever-so-reylo (Ever_So_Reylo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ever_So_Reylo/gifts).



> Ali is a demon here have some unbeta’d porn written during my workday. I did not reread this before posting so there may be lotsa problems here but IT’S PORN THAT HAPPENS SOMETIME I WANTED TO GET IT OUT BEFORE LEAVING THE OFFICE

i.

 

It begins as they’re curled up on the couch, staring at the candles.  There are two of them, glowing happily on the window sill in the menorah he’d bought frantically online a week ago when he’d realized that he didn’t have one.  Rey had picked up candles from CVS and they’d mostly fit--enough that he wasn’t worried they’d fall over, but they’d still had to jam them in.

 

Rey’s head is resting on his shoulder, her breathing is easy.  He hates quiet most of the time, but he likes quiet with Rey. Quiet with Rey is actual quiet, and not space for the way his head is too much for him sometimes.

 

It begins with his arm brushing lazily up and down Rey’s arm as she’s tucked against him.  It begins when she turns her face slightly and presses a quick kiss to his neck. Or rather--a quick kiss that turns into a long, wet kiss, her sucking the skin of his neck between her lips, her teeth as her hand drifts purposefully towards his crotch.

 

He loves Rey.  He loves Rey with all his heart.  He also doesn’t know how he feels about Channukah.  So he really can’t tell how he’s supposed to feel when she unzips the front of his pants and pulls him loose and starts jacking him off, sucking his neck.  There’s got to be something sacreligious about this, right? He shouldn’t look at the candles as she does this, as they do this, as he gets stiffer and stiffer in her hand, as his blood stats to boil between her lips at his neck and her fingers around his--good god--he really needs to close--

 

He’s breathing heavily as he comes down from it, his cum splattered all over the front of his sweater.  She keeps sucking on his neck and gently tucks him away again without a word.

 

“You said no presents,” she whispers at last.  “So I got creative.”

 

He swallows.  He doesn’t know if he trusts himself to speak.

 

Yeah--he knows there’s no concept of hell in Judaism.  But he’s probably going to hell.

 

ii.

  


_What do I get you for Channukah?_ Rey had asked.  She’d had bright eyes--she always has bright eyes--and Ben is proud of himself for biting off the fucking rant that’s about to spill out of his mouth--that the only reason that people associate presents with Channukah is because fucking goyim don’t know how to process anything in terms of Jewish meaningfulness and had to try and turn it into the “Jewish Christmas” because it was “close enough”--and saying _It’s not a giftgiving holiday,_ and leaving it at that.  

 

He really hadn’t expected anything of her for it.  He really hadn’t. He’d been content enough to sit there and watch the candles, maybe take bets--on later nights--about which one would go out first, teach her the tactics of the game (the ones that lean influence so much because they bring their heat into another candle’s sphere).  Hell, he hates playing dreidel, but he’d have played dreidel with Rey, just to watch he smile and eat chocolate.

 

And he tries to tell he that on the second night of Channukah, the menorah the only light in the room as Rey kneels between his legs.  He does try to tell her that, but she gives him a sardonic look and says, “Ben, shut up and let me blow you,” and a moment later he’s in her mouth and god he loves the way she blows him.  She does this thing with her tongue that makes his mind stops working, she lightly--so lightly that it feels good, not so much that he’s afraid she’s gonna rip his dick off--twists the skin of his shaft between her hands as she bobs up and down, she hums contentedly when he drizzles precum into her mouth, and the way that her mouth vibrates when she does that makes his eyes roll into the back of his head.

 

He does keep his eyes closed this time.  He does do that. He’s not staring at the menorah and the candles that are a symbol of life, of survival, of endurance when he comes in her mouth, his heart pounding in his ears as his fingers try to stroke Rey’s hair.  

 

She climbs onto his lap when she’s done and rests her head against his shoulder as his heart steadies, as his breathing steadies.  He runs a hand lazily up and down her spine and fiddles with the waistline of her jeans.

 

“Wear something more accessible tomorrow,” he whispers into her neck.  

 

“Why, you got plans?” she asks.

 

“Not really,” he only half-lies.  He doesn’t have anything _planned_ exactly, beyond knowing he’s going to get her off.  Then he shoves her off his lap--she squeaks as her back hits the couch--and he tugs her jeans down her legs and buries his face between her thighs.

 

The candles have gone out by the time he’s done with her.

 

iii.

 

She’s wearing a skirt the next day when they light candles.  

 

A skirt, and nothing else, her lovely perky tits just right there as he tries to focus on the dang words he’s known since Hebrew school and not the way she’s getting chilly, her nipples puckering in the cold, and _certainly_ not the way his pants are feeling uncomfortably tight.

 

She cuddles up next to him all innocently and he sees goosebumps across her skin.  “Cold?” he asks her lightly.

 

“Figured the fire would warm me up,” she replies and a moment later she’s straddling him, tugging him out of his pants for the third night in a row and, with a little fumbling, sliding onto him.  “Or you would,” she adds. “One or the other.”

 

He does.  He loves it when she straddles him like this.  Like--he definitely likes riding her, but his torso is so much longer than hers and he really likes it when her tits are in his face like this because he can just duck his head down slightly and there they are, soft and stiff from the cold and he can’t have that, he really can’t.  He can’t have her cold at all. If her nipples are gonna be that hard, it should be because of him.

 

So he sets himself to work, laving his tongue over her skin and cupping the other breast with one hand while he guides Rey’s hips up and down his shaft.  

 

“Warmer?” he asks her when she starts to groan a little bit.  She always comes so fast when she’s on top--it’s kind of obscene.  She says it’s something about the angle of her clit. She comes with a cry and he loves the way it feels when she comes on his dick, the way it feels like she’s reaching out to him, holding him as she trembles in his arms and his hands leave her hips and her breast to make sure she doesn’t keel over backwards like she does in bed sometimes because that would be bad while they’re on the living room couch.

 

She presses her lips into his hair, running her fingers through it and he can feel her trying not to slow down in her post-orgasmic haze and he loves her for that.  He also twists her around so that she’s lying with her back on the couch again and drives into her until he’s coming inside her and it feels the way it always does--like he’s home, like he’s safe, like he’s loved.

 

They lie there like that for a while in the soft candlelight.  He pulls out of her so he can rest his head on her chest and Rey weaves her fingers through his hair, braiding it he thinks, because she likes doing that.  He likes it when she does it too.

  
iv.

 

They don’t even fucking light the candles on the fourth night.

 

They mean to.  The candles are in the channukiah.  

 

But he ends up bending her over the couch, pulling her skirt up and stroking along her slit until she’s positively glistening she’s so wet.  He loves doing that. Loves reducing her to mewls of _please, Ben, please_ because she’s so strong, she’s so brave, she’s so incredible but he just wants to take _care_ of her.  He dips two fingers into he and uses her own slick to tease around her asshole and she positively whimpers, the muscle tightening slightly against the pressure before she takes a deep breath.  He thumbs at her clit while he works to relax the muscle and when she’s decently relaxed around his fingers, he withdraws them, coats her with more of her own slick and rubs his dick against her slit for good measure before he eases himself gently into her.

 

He’s heard people talk about how--with the right person--it always feels like the first time you’re having sex with them.  He thinks that’s bullshit. The first time he’d had sex with Rey, he’d cried, come in twenty-seven seconds, and then cried some more.  And it certainly doesn’t feel like the first time they had anal--when he hadn’t known what the fuck he was doing and she hadn’t known how to admit that it was hurting her until after he’d come and fuck he wished he could undo that he really did.  

 

That’s what he thinks about every time he fucks her ass--how he doesn’t want it to feel like the first time.  He wants it to feel the exact opposite of the first time, he wants her to lose her mind to pleasure, not to pain, wants her to to understand that he wants to feel good but he always--always always--wants her to feel better.  Which is why he does his best to keep his fingers on her clit, why he bends over and kisses her spine as he goes, why he watches her closely to make sure she’s not seizing up or gritting her teeth. He kisses her neck, her back, and she reaches a hand behind her and tugs his hair so that his face is close enough for her to kiss him--sloppily, god so sloppily--as he brings himself closer and closer and closer.

 

He stays like that after he’s come, her lips on the corner of his mouth as he pulls out of her but brings both his hands between her legs--one for her clit and one to push three fingers into her sopping cunt.  

 

“Ben,” she mewls as she keens against his fingers and then there’s silence as he feels her throbbing against his fingers.  Slowly, as she comes back to herself, she twists underneath him and kisses him deeply, her hands against the back of his neck and everything is still and perfect in the darkness.

 

v.

 

They do light candles the next night.  He feels guilty that they hadn’t gotten to it the night before and yeah, Jewish guilt is eternal, but it feels particularly bad that he hadn’t lit Channukah candles because he’d been fucking his girlfriend’s ass.

 

So he lights them and goes and settles himself on the couch and, to his surprise, Rey is not there waiting for him, the way she had been on the first few nights.  He looks over his shoulder and sees her coming out of the kitchen, and it takes him a moment to notice that she’s holding a saucepan because she’s all business and no clothes right now.  

 

“Off with that,” she says as she approaches the sofa.  

 

“Off with--” Ben begins but she plucks at his sweater and he reaches down obediently and tugs up both shirt and sweater.  It gets stuck around his head and for a moment when he feels Rey’s hands around the neckline of his shirt, he thinks she’s going to help, but instead she tugs down.  

 

“No,” she says.  “Leave it like that.”

 

Ben raises his eyebrows, then remembers she can’t see his raised eyebrows and says.  “My arms too? Is this sweater bondage or something?”

 

He can tell she’s considering, then she tugs his arms loose, but leaves his head half-in half-out of his shirt and sweater.  “I look ridiculous,” he grumbles at her, crossing his arms over his chest to show his annoyance.

 

She uncrosses his arms, though, and tells him, “You’re ruining my view.”

 

“Sorry about that,” he says, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice because _she’s_ naked he’d liked that view and now he’s stuck getting overheated by his own sweater.  “I wonder what it would be like to have a ruined--”

 

The words die in his throat when something hot drips down his chest and a moment later, Rey is licking at it, humming delightedly.  

 

“I love your chest,” she tells him, and he can feel her breath playing across his skin.  “It’s delicious.” And she licks it again.

 

“And what are you licking off my--” he groans because she’s dripping more of whatever it is along his abdomen now and she’s licking between the grooves of his muscles.  

 

“We got all this gelt,” she said.  “And we haven’t once played dreidel.  So I repurposed it.”

 

He groans and he doesn’t care what she wants, he tugs his sweater and shirt off his head and pulls her up to kiss the chocolate from her lips.  Hot chocolate spills out of the saucepan and Rey tells him to be careful but he really can’t care. He pours chocolate on her skin too and licks it off and it’s the only thing that could make the taste of her better, adding chocolate to it.  He kisses his way across her chest, across her stomach, until his head is between her legs again and he looks up at her as his tongue toys with her slit.

 

“You taste so good with the aftertaste of chocolate,” he tells her.

 

He can tell she’s about to roll her eyes at him--or perhaps remind him _not_ to pour chocolate on her cunt because she does _not_ want to deal with that yeast infection--but he flattens his tongue against her clit whatever it was that she’d been planning to respond with gets lost in a moan that he takes ruthless advantage of when he slides two fingers into her and curls them up, stroking her gently in time with his tongue until she falls apart.

 

She’s still clenching when he presses into her, and he has to balance himself carefully so that he doesn’t fall off the couch as he loses himself in the warmth of her.  She kisses his chest--licking at spots of chocolate that she’d missed and running her hands over his skin. And when he looks into her eyes, they are soft, and bright, and more things he can’t quite understand and he finds himself stopping for just a moment as he lets all of what Rey is wash over him, her heart, her soul.

 

Then her warm smile turns wicked as she presses a finger against his ass and he groans and comes harder than he really has any right to and she kisses him until they fall asleep on the couch.

 

vi.

 

Rey’s on the couch behind him as he lights candles again--seven this time.  The menorah is so much brighter than it was that first night, when Rey had slid her hands in his pants.

 

Now she’s lying naked on the couch behind him, waiting, blindfolded because fair is only fair, as he’d told her when he’d tied the napkin around her face.   _Not my fault you didn’t plan last night properly,_ he teased as she’d pouted at him.  Pouted until the napkin was secure because then, he knows, she’s eager.  Rey likes being blindfolded.

 

He picks up an extra candle from the box by the channukiah and lights it against the shamash, then turns to face her.

 

She’s rubbing her slit a little lazily, biting her lower lip--he knows mostly for show because it does things to him, seeing her biting her lip like that.  As if seeing her blindfolded and playing with herself didn’t also do things to him.

 

The candle starts dripping wax onto the carpet and he crosses the room.  He pauses, looking down at her, and then tips the candle slightly so that the wax dribbles down onto her tits.

 

She lets out a hiss, then sighs.  

 

“Good?  Bad?” he asks her.  They’ve never actually done anything with hot wax and he’s not sure a Channukah candle is the best thing to use, but given the situation he wouldn’t use anything else.  

 

“Good,” she says after a moment and he lets more drip down onto her chest, lets it drip until she looks positively splattered.

 

“It looks like I came all over you,” he tells her and she moans and her hand drifts back between her legs.  For a moment, he contemplates grabbing it, but then he changes his mind and he unzips his pants and takes himself in hand.  He’s ridiculously hard. “It looks like you’re covered in my cum right now.” She whimpers and bites her lip and his dick twitches in his hand.  

 

The candle is burning fast at this angle--faster than any of the ones on the menorah.  He blows it out as it gets close to his fingers and lets it drop to the floor as he focuses more and more and more on her chest, on the sounds she’s making as she gets closer and closer, on the way she’s biting her lip.

 

And then he’s coming on her chest--the wax dry beneath his semen as it paints her in heavy white strokes.  Some of it gets on the sofa behind her, but he doesn’t care because she cries out and her chest arches upward and he leans forward to pull the blindfold off.  She looks down at her chest.

 

And bites her lip.

 

“Menace,” he says bending down to kiss her and she grins against him as both of them begin peeling the wax away.

 

vii.

 

In retrospect, he should have expected this.  He really really really should have expected this.  

 

Rey is sitting there waiting for him, and she’s already wearing her strap on while he lights candles.  He doesn’t say a prayer this time. He can’t do that while she’s already wearing a strap on. He probably should never have said any prayers.  This is probably not even a little bit close to kosher.

 

He peels off his shirt as he approaches her on the couch and steps awkwardly out of his pants.  She looks up at him, her grin catlike.

 

“And how do you want me?” he asks her quietly.

 

“You made a mess of me yesterday--it’s only fair you make a mess of yourself today,” she replies a little cheekily and he settles on the couch next to her, twisting to face her.

 

She kisses her way down his chest, nuzzling at the base of his half-hard cock before licking a hot stripe along the length of it.  She squirts some lube into her hand and, as she tongues circles over his tip and he doesn’t remember the last time he got this hard this fast.  He doesn’t remember the last time his breath caught in his throat quite like this as she begins stroking her lube-coated fingers along his ass. She mouths along his dick as she prepares him, sometimes licking, sometimes just pressing hot, openmouthed kisses to him and Ben’s eyes roll into the back of his head when presses her tongue as much as she can into the slit at his tip, as if trying to urge him to release precum onto her tongue.  He does, and she kisses him, and he groans because she’s got her fingers in him, filling him, easing in and out until she decides he’s ready for the strap-on.

 

“Rey,” he groans as she presses it into him.  “Rey, fuck.” He’d forgotten what this was like.  It’s been a while. It’s not that he doesn’t like being pegged--he does, oh he really does--it’s just that it requires some preparation and usually as they’re getting started, it’s spontaneous, and so not the first option they go to.  But if Rey’s planned a fuckfest for Channukah…

 

“Rey--oh--oh--”

 

One of her hands is on his dick now, pumping along it lazily.  Her fingers are still lubed, and he’s still damp from her saliva and it’s perfect.  The other of her hands reaches up and strokes his face gently, lovingly, tenderly as she murmurs, “I love you like this.  Lose control for me, sweetheart.”

 

And he does.  He does. He rocks shamelessly--needily--desperately onto the dildo, whimpering as he does.  His precum is practically leaking out of him, and when he opens his eyes, he can see the way that Rey’s perfect tits are bouncing as she presses her weight into fucking him and how the fuck did he ever come to deserve her?  How?

 

He comes for a long time, his balls tight, making just as much a mess of himself as Rey had wanted him to.  Or at least he thinks he does. He’s not quite lucid, really, the way his head is spinning, the way his heart is pounding.  He’s loosely aware that Rey is pulling the strap on out of him, that she’s unhooking it, that she’s curling up on his chest with a grin on her face as he buries his face in her neck.  

 

“I love you,” he whispers to her.

 

“I know,” she replies, and he sucks on her neck.

 

She wriggles against him and he grins.  

 

“You like fucking me,” he half-teases.  

 

“I really do,” she replies.  And he lets his hands drift towards her slit.  She’s dripping and swollen and she kisses him the moment his fingertips make contact with her skin.

 

“Need help?” he asks her as coyly as a man can, given that he’d just come very hard after his girlfriend fucked his ass.

 

“If you’d be so kind,” she replies.

 

So he does.  Oh--oh he does.

 

viii.

 

They’re on the floor this time.  Ben had meant for it to be long, and slow, and passionate.  He had meant for it to make Rey feel just how much he loves her, just how much she means to him for as long as she can.  He had meant for it to outlast the nine candles burning their way into darkness.

 

And maybe they will.  

 

But he doubts this.

 

“You’re really bad at this,” he tells her, smiling into her cunt.  

 

“Look you’re distracting,” she says, her face nuzzled once again into the base of his cock.  He shouldn’t really be teasing--he’s too tall for them to do this without some back-and-forth, but all the same, it’s quite endearing how she just has stopped trying.  “I can’t remember if I’ve told you this, but you’re really good at doing that.”

 

“I’d inferred,” he says, his grin widening and--for good measure--he flicks his tongue against her clit.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she hisses and gives the base of his dick the sloppiest, least cohesive kiss he thinks he’s gotten from her this week, which only makes him smile more.  

 

“I’m just going to keep going,” he tells her.  “Waiting for you seems like a bad idea.”

 

“Yeah, don’t wait for--” she groans.  Goans and he feels the muscles in her legs start to shake as she gets closer.  He nudges at he cleft with his nose and she’s really perfect, even if she’s really bad at giving him head while he’s eating her out.  He’s known that about her for a while. And he doesn’t care. Doesn’t care because why should he? Why would he? Except to tease her lovingly as she pants and tries so hard not to come too soon.

 

But come she does--she always does, he makes sure of that--and she eases her hips away from his lips, her clit a little too sensitive.  He’ll pause for now, let her recover.

 

She does, and immediately does what she was supposed to be doing the whole time, her head bobbing up and down over his cock, drinking him in as much as he’d been drinking her in and he sighs and enjoys the view of her gleaming over him, still shining with arousal.  He reaches a hand up and strokes it and she hums over his dick happily.

 

“Ready for more?” he asks her.

 

She hums again in response, and he lifts his head up, sliding his tongue into her as deep as it will go.  He feels her exhale in delight over him and it makes his dick twitch in her mouth.

 

It’s heaven, tasting her while she’s sucking on his dick.  The two best sensations in the whole world. His head is full of her, his heart is full of her and he’ll do this for as long as she’ll let him.

 

And maybe it’s the realization that she’ll love him always, that she’ll love him long after the candles go out, that she’ll be there with him, that they’ll neither of them ever be alone again--that quite as much as her cupping his balls has him coming into her mouth while his tongue is still as deep inside of her as it’ll go.

 

She sits back slightly and he lets his head rest on the floor again pulls his tongue out just long enough for him to catch his breath as she traces little circles on his thighs.

 

“I know you want to keep going.”  She says it almost shyly, sweetly, as though she can’t really believe that he would.  

 

So he pulls her hips back to his lips, then reaches his hands up to palm her breasts, and says, “Forever,” before he kisses her clit again.

  



End file.
